


Tropeapalooza

by d0t



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Trope Subversion, Twilight references if you squint, cuddlewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0t/pseuds/d0t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolves run hot. HOT, not cold. And Stiles has to put his beliefs aside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tropeapalooza

Stiles wakes gasping for air.

He's fairly convinced that he's dying -- suffocating to death, specifically. He opens his eyes expecting to see dark sky and the tops of the trees in the preserve, but instead, he sees the same patched spot on his ceiling where his dad tried to fill the holes left by the remote-controlled solar system he and Scott had accidentally pulled out of the ceiling trying to grab it from the top bunk.

Come to think of it, that's around the time his father said it was time to replace the family hand-me-down bunk beds.

At any rate, the lack of monster-of-the-week noises lets him know he's probably not dying. And yet he's still finding it hard to breathe, and when he tries to sit up, he discovers he's pretty effectively pinned down.

Someone with his experience really should know better than to start poking at things, but, well, he's pinned down, there's no snarling, growling, or villainous monologing, so he assumes it can't be all that bad.

Until... it's all that bad. His hand comes away from his chest damp. He'd felt some incredibly soft fur and then...

A puddle of wet.

There is something furry and _wet_ on him. Oh god. What if it's like the kanima? What if the wet stuff is gong to paralyze him? Or worse? Burn all his skin off?

It has to be the furious hand-wiping on the nearest section of blanket that makes the furry, wet thing stir, because the next thing he knows, he's staring into a pretty large black furry face --

With eyes he'd recognize anywhere.

"Derek? Dude, what the fuck? Can I ask why you're in your fur and sleeping on me? I thought I was dying."

The fur-face shifts and warps and then there's Derek Hale. And he's--

Yeah, he's pretty naked. And still on top of Stiles. And about the same temperature as a grilled hot dog.

Don't think about hot dogs, Stiles. Don't--

"Cold," Derek says.

It takes a few seconds for Stiles' brain to reboot.

"What do you mean cold? It's December. It's Northern California. Of course it's cold. But you're a _werewolf!_ Why are you telling me it's cold?"

"Couldn't get warm. Came here to warm up. Figured I'd be gone before you woke up, but apparently I sleep really well when I'm comfortable--"

Stiles can't help but interrupt.

"First, that's probably the longest string of words you've ever put together, so slow down before you sprain something. Second, again, werewolf. Did you forget?"

Derek's eyebrows do that thing that makes Stiles think of how they teach elementary kids to move around close to the floor in case of fire, sort of drop low and creep.

"Why do you keep telling me I'm a werewolf? Of course I know I'm a werewolf. I just shifted, didn't I? What does that have to do with anything?"

Do not think of hot dogs, Stiles. Do not--

Wait.

What does that have to do with being cold?

"Dude, do you not get how that works? You run hotter than a human. Ergo, you don't feel the cold."

Derek lifts himself off Stiles just enough to face palm. Unfortunately, that tilts his hips into Stiles and do not think of--

"No, you idiot. It means exactly the opposite. The temperature differential is larger for us than humans when it gets cold. Now hotter temperatures -- those aren't so much of a problem. My god, have you never seen a cat lie in a patch of sun or on a person? They run hot too. And feel colder."

Stiles thinks of the tumblr post with the cat lying on a slice of pizza and sees the logic in what Derek is saying. But thinking of pizza leads to thinking of hot dogs leads to...

"How about we figure out another way to warm you up, then, instead of suffocating me in my sleep?"

_< fin>_

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, no edit, no continuation. I swear this time.


End file.
